


cause our hearts are locked forever

by SailorChibi



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Aged-Up Characters, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Coping Mechanisms, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gabriel Agreste's A+ Parenting, Identity Reveal, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Has Anxiety, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Original Akuma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Identity Reveal, Separation Anxiety, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, a bittersweet ending would be more apt i suppose, adrien agreste leaves home, adrien agreste | chat noir has depression, but yeah the angst is strong with this one, the kids are not alright, they're both seventeen in this, why do so many of my fics have these two getting married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir are not okay. Years of fighting akumas have taken a serious toll. The only comfort they have is in each other, and, when the pain of separation becomes too much, Marinette figures out a way to circumvent her promise to not tell Chat who she is.





	1. Chapter 1

**You have five new messages.**

_"Hey Chat, it's me. How's your day going? Mine was pretty average. You know, typical school day. We learned about... uh, actually I'm not sure what we learned about. I guess I should do my homework and try to figure it out. Bug out."_

\--

**You have ten new messages.**

_"Hey Kitty. I guess you're still at work. I know you said it would be some late nights but... but please call me. I don't care if it's late. I'm just... I need to hear your voice. I need to know you're okay."_

\--

**You have six new messages.**

_"Thanks for calling me. I needed that. I know you did too. Just two more days, right? We can do that. Just... two days."_

\--

**You have one new message.**

_"Mon dieu, Chat, I can't do this. I can't breathe without you. It feels like I’m suffocating."_

\--

**You have one new message.**

_"Okay, sorry. Sorry for freaking out on your voicemail. I'm fine. Really. Super duper fine. Bug out."_

\--

**You have one new message.**

_"I'm not fine. Please come home."_

\--

**You have five new messages.**

_"I love waking up to your texts but please don't get caught. It's not worth it. I don't want your dad to keep you away any longer than he already has. I can't -"_

\--

**You have one new message.**

_"I can't do this."_

\--

"Have you heard a single word I've said in the last five minutes?"

With difficulty, Marinette dragged her eyes away from the classroom clock to focus on her best friend's face. She studied Alya for a few seconds, taking in the exasperated lines painting Alya's forehead, and said, "You were talking about the Ladyblog."

Alya opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she sighed. "I mean, yes. But you still weren't listening. What's with you lately? I feel like I have to repeat everything I say before it sinks in."

"I'm sorry," Marinette said, eyes wandering back to the clock. It was just after three. School would be out in nine minutes. In nine minutes, she could transform and then go sit on the Eiffel Tower and wait for Chat. He was supposed to be home tonight. They hadn't seen each other in seven days, sixteen hours and eleven minutes. The itch beneath her skin was getting unbearable. She wanted to claw at her arms to make it stop, expect she knew that nothing would help except seeing Chat in person. 

She had to know that he was okay, that he was alive.

Alya sighed again. "Is this about Adrien? Are you that spaced out because he's been away?"

"Who?" Marinette asked vaguely, only becoming aware of her mistake when Alya dropped her phone. The loud sound of it hitting the desk made Marinette's head snap around; she ran over Alya's last sentence and realized her mistake.

"Did you just ask who Adrien Agreste is?" Alya said in a disbelieving tone. "Who are you and where is Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"It was a joke. I'm joking," Marinette said lamely, attempting to smile. It felt unnatural, and she suddenly realized that she couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled because she wanted to. Had it been that long? She searched her memory, trying to dredge up a recent time when she'd been happy. Nothing was coming to mind. The only time she felt a measure of peace lately was when she was in Chat's arms.

Chat. Marinette looked at the clock. Seven minutes.

"You've gotten so weird," Alya said. "Weirder than normal. And hey, stop it!" She slapped gently at Marinette's hands. Marinette froze, realizing she'd been picking at her nails again. Her left index finger was bleeding from where she'd torn the skin away.

"Sorry," Marinette whispered, folding her hands into fists that trembled. After a moment, she slid her hands beneath the desk where no one else could see them. 

"Don't apologize, Mari, sheesh," Alya said. 

Marinette didn't know what else to do. She jiggled her knee instead, eyeing the clock. Six minutes. The sense of lingering unease that never seemed to go away deepened. What if Chat got in an accident on the way home as a civilian? What if an akuma attacked and she didn't have a chance to get to him? That had been one of her many nightmares last night. She'd had to watch Chat die in her arms, and then she'd been alone. She'd jerked awake at 4am, transformed, and left Chat eleven increasingly desperate voicemails before she forced herself to stop. She'd spend the rest of the night cuddling her Chat Noir plushie on the balcony, staring at the sunrise.

He'd called her back as soon as he woke up. With the time difference, they'd only had a few precious minutes to talk. He'd sounded as wrecked as she'd felt, but he'd promised that he was coming home today. Marinette closed her eyes, remembering the shaky sound of his voice, and dug her nails into her thighs. He was coming home. He was coming back. He wasn't dead. Her breathing quickened. 

The bell rang. Marinette leapt to her feet and flew through the door before anyone else had even moved. She hurtled down the hall and was the first one out the doors and into the bright sunshine. Three years ago, this would've been the kind of warm, sunny day that Marinette would've relished. She might've gone home to help her parents in the bakery, or gone to a movie with Alya, or dropped by one of Adrien's photoshoots to watch. Or even gone to sit in the park with her sketchbook, drawing inspiration from the trees and the birds and the people she saw.

Now, Marinette pelted around the side of the school and opened her purse.

"Marinette, Chat isn't supposed to be back for another three hours," Tikki said as she emerged. Her eyes were full of worry. "You need to breathe."

"I-I'm f-fine," Marinette stuttered. She couldn't breathe. 

"You're not fine," Tikki said quietly. 

Marinette looked away, because she couldn't argue that. Normal people could sleep through a night without waking up every half hour from nightmares. Normal people didn't feel like they couldn't breathe unless they were with their partner. Normal people didn't call their partners and stay on the phone with them all night just so that they could feel like they weren't shattering apart. Normal people didn't feel constantly on edge because they didn't know when the next akuma attack would happen. Normal people could let their partners go away for work for one week without calling them over three hundred times, nevermind the texts. She hadn't spent this much time transformed for _months_.

"Please, Tikki," she whispered. "I'm going to tear my hair out if I don't see Chat soon."

Tikki gave in, as Marinette had known she would, with a nod. Marinette transformed and used her yoyo to take herself to the rooftops. Being Ladybug helped slightly, but not as much as she would have hoped. She patrolled for a while, trying to work out her extra energy, She called Chat another ten times, hoping against hope that he would pick up. But he didn't, of course. He was traveling as a civilian. If he could be Chat, he would be here by now. There was no doubt in her mind of that.

By 5pm, Ladybug was pacing back and forth across one of the Eiffel Tower's beams. She alternated between ringing her hands and twirling her pigtails, tugging anxiously. Her heart was beating too fast, and she knew that, but calming down wouldn't happen without -

"My Lady."

Ladybug turned right into an open pair of arms. Chat swept her up into a hug so tight that Ladybug was left feeling breathless for an entirely different reason. She threw her arms around Chat's neck and clung back, a wave of relief rolling through her and weakening her knees. He was here. He was safe. She could breathe again. 

"You're okay, you're okay," Chat repeated. He was shaking. "You're okay."

"I'm okay," Ladybug said, voice cracking, and kissed his cheek. "I'm okay, _mon minou_."

She couldn't have said how long they stood there and embraced, but it was long enough that Chat's legs gave out and they sank to the floor. His nose was tucked into her throat, and she knew that he was inhaling her scent. He'd told her once that he found her scent more comforting than anything else in the world, and that sometimes it was enough to make the panic and fear go away. That was when she'd given him her Ladybug plushie. They swapped plushies every few days, and slept with them to renew the scent. She'd kept the Ladybug plushie for three full nights before Chat left.

"Marry me," Chat said suddenly.

Ladybug bit her lip and nuzzled him. "Chat..." She'd lost track of how many times he'd ask her that. They were too young, only seventeen, but that didn't mean she didn't want to say yes. It didn't mean she hadn't lost countless hours to fantasies where they were married and could spend every minute together.

"I can't do this anymore. I spent seven days in _fucking hell_ because I didn't know where you were; I spent more time scrutinizing the news feeds than I did actually doing my job." His voice broke. "I can't be apart from you again."

"I know. I feel the same way," Ladybug said. She looked over his shoulder at the Parisian skyline. A sight that had once been beautiful and awe inspiring now left her empty. The only thing that made her feel anything good these days was Chat, and she couldn't even be with him most of the time because of their secret. It just wasn't fair. She squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled shakily. Chat was right. They couldn't do this anymore.

She pulled back. Chat's claws tightened, pricking her skin. The expression of sheer panic on his face broke what remained of her heart. That sealed her decision. It physically hurt to let go of him, but Ladybug made herself do it so that she could reach up and unfasten one of her ribbons. No matter what she was wearing in her hair when she transformed, be it tie or ribbon or barrette, they always changed into two red ribbons. One around each pigtail. The ribbons were as indestructible as her suit and did an impossibly good job at keeping her hair out of her face when she fought.

"Ladybug?" Chat asked uncertainly as she tied the red ribbon around his wrist. 

"It will change back with you," she told him. "I made these. I'll recognize it. I'll know you." She cupped his face. His dear, beautiful face. 

His eyes grew wide with wonder. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I don't care what Tikki or Master Fu say. I'm done." She leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. "At least if we know each other, we can exchange numbers. We can text during the day and hang out as civilians. And I'm not breaking my word to Tikki. I'm not telling you who I am, right?"

"Right," Chat said, a glint of amusement flashing in his green eyes. "Always got a plan."

"I try," Ladybug said, working her fingers into his hair. His eyes fluttered shut and he began to purr.

They slept together that night, curled up on the Eiffel Tower where no one could reach them. Ladybug woke at dawn and shook her partner awake as well. She hated to leave him; the instant Chat was out of her sight, the fear and panic came flooding back. She had to stop herself from flinging herself over the rooftops to find him. Instead, she went home and slid into her bed just as her alarm would've gone off. She de-transformed, catching Tikki in her hands.

"I'm sorry, Marinette."

That... was not what Marinette was expecting. She blinked. "What?"

Tikki's shoulders slumped. "I never told you this, but you and Chat were never supposed to be alone."

"What?!" Marinette said again, a little louder. Usually she found it hard to concentrate on anything when Chat wasn't around, but now she stared at Tikki with intense focus.

"Ladybug and Chat Noir are always awakened together," Tikki explained. "But not alone. At least one, typically two, other holders are awakened at the same time, so that Ladybug has a team she can depend on. So that one or two people don't have to carry all the stress by themselves."

Marinette was quiet for a moment, processing this before she spoke. "Then why...?"

"Because the Butterfly and Peacock are missing, and the Butterfly, at least, is active. Master Fu is scared of having all seven Miraculous be active at the same time. He's too old to fight, but he's still the Turtle. So he's been keeping the Bee and Fox under wraps."

"You mean Chat and I should've had more help from the beginning? And Hawkmoth is why we don't?" Marinette asked, feeling a rush of anger. It wasn't solely directed at Hawkmoth, though. She was also angry at Master Fu. Didn't he know what this was doing to her? To Chat? If she had a euro for every time someone had commented on how much she'd changed in the past three years, and how that change had not been for the better, she would be a very rich woman. Her whole life had fallen apart and she was barely hanging on and she'd become obsessed with her partner.

Tikki nodded. "Yes. That's why I'm not angry at you for wanting to tell Chat who you are. You do whatever you need to, okay?" She patted Marinette's hand. "Just keep holding on."

"I am," Marinette said dazedly. This was too much. It was something she needed to talk to Chat about. She'd never really thought about why Master Fu hadn't released the Fox and the Bee miraculouses. It was infuriating to know that the past Ladybugs and Chat Noirs had had more support. She and Chat weren't so special. They needed help too!

"Marinette! You're going to be late!" her mom called.

Marinette jolted, suddenly realizing the time, and scrambled to get ready. She slowed when she saw her hair in the mirror, half of it falling free around her face and the other half tied back by a black ribbon festooned with green pawprints. Carefully, she pulled the lone ribbon free and combed her hair. Then she quickly braided her hair and tied it off with the black ribbon. A green scarf, black shirt and green skirt, paired with black flats, completed her look. If she didn't find Chat at her school, she was going to comb the streets of Paris even if took all night. Chat might be intrigued by a girl Ladybug's age wearing his colors.

She clattered down the stairs, refused an offer of food, and made a run for her school. She made just in time, sliding into her seat before the bell rang. She wasn't the last one; Adrien sprinted in about two minutes after, offering Ms. Bustier a sheepish shrug in apology. Ms. Bustier gave him a fond look, welcomed him back, and waved him into his seat. Adrien hurried over and sat next to Nino, accepting the gentle shoulder punch that Nino gave him with good grace. Alya nudged Marinette in the ribs with a grin.

"He's picking up your bad habits," she whispered. "You're so made for each other."

"Yeah," Marinette muttered, pretending that she was preoccupied with taking out her notebook so that she didn't have to meet Alya's eyes. Truthfully, her feelings for Adrien had faded somewhat as her need for Chat's presence grew. She still loved him, and probably always would, but realistically there was no one who could understand her better than her partner. It wasn't right, or fair, to expect a civilian to want to take on the complete and utter shit storm that was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, aka Ladybug.

The first hour or so of class was normal. Marinette had zero idea what was going on, as per usual. She was watching the clock for the hundredth time when Ms. Bustier set a stack of papers on Adrien's desk with a directive for him to take one and pass the rest on. Adrien handed one of the papers to Nino, took one for himself, and then turned around to hand the rest to Marinette. As if in slow motion, his hand stretched out and the sleeve of his shirt rode up. A black ribbon decorated with green pawprints came into view, wrapped securely around his wrist.

Marinette stared.

"And here I thought you were a Ladybug fan," Alya said playfully.

There were deep shadows under and within Adrien's eyes. "I am," he said simply. 

"Marry me," Marinette blurted out. Perhaps a little too loudly, judging by how fast all the heads in the classroom swung in their direction. It seemed like everyone froze.

Adrien's eyes snapped to her face. He stared at her just as hard as she was staring at him. She watched his eyes - his _green_ eyes - drop to her chest, where the edge of her braid laid, and take in the black ribbon. Then they snapped back up to her face. Marinette's hand was shaking as she reached out to touch the ribbon around his wrist. The black material was smooth and silky beneath her fingertips; she'd paid a lot for the fabric. It was a little rougher where she'd painted on the green pawprints, because the right shade of green paint hadn't come in the more expensive brands. And the color was so, so important.

"You found my ribbon," she said, her voice breaking.

His hand twisted, wrapping around her wrist, and he jerked her forward as he stood. She fell into his arms, the desk between them. It pressed painfully into her hips, and it must've been jammed just as uncomfortably against his stomach, but neither of them cared. Adrien's grip was just as tight as it had been on the Eiffel Tower last night. Marinette wound her arms around his neck, shaking from head to toe. All those months and her kitty had been sitting right in front of her. He was here. She could breathe.

"Yes," Adrien said roughly, cupping the back of her head. His fingers ran down her hair to find the end of the braid; she pulled back in time to see him press a kiss to the end of it. "Yes, always, let's go get a ring right now."

" _What_?!" Chloé burst out, and that seemed to be the sign for the rest of the class to break out into questions and shouting.

Marinette was deaf to them all, and had eyes only for her kitty. "Your father won't allow it," she said. "I don’t think Maman or Papa will either. I turn eighteen last. It’s only eight months away. Let's go that morning."

"Marinette!" Alya exclaimed, seemingly jolted out of her dumbfounded state.

“Alright, that is enough!” Ms. Bustier called out. “Everyone, sit down. I said sit down!” She lightly smacked her hand against her desk for emphasis. “Marinette, Adrien, I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but the classroom is not the place. Both of you take your seats. If I hear any more disruptions, you’ll both be in detention.”

“Yes ma’am,” Marinette said, though she was slow to let go and slower to sit. She wanted to take Adrien and run. They had so much to talk about. She’d never imagined that her kitty could be so close. 

Adrien sat with obvious reluctance, turning his head slightly so that he could see her in his peripheral vision. Marinette felt bad for him; at least Adrien sat within her direct line of vision, so she could watch over him during class. Perhaps Nino or Alya would agree to move for the afternoon. For now, conscious of the stares from the rest of the class, Marinette swung her foot forward and rested her heel on the edge of his bench. A moment later, she felt a hand wrap around her ankle.

Alya jabbed her in the side and slid a piece of paper in front of her. Scribbled across it was ‘WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT????????’

Shit. She could barely think, and she wished she could have a moment to talk to Adrien. What could she say? She hesitated, and got jabbed in the side again. When she glared at Alya, Alya glared right back. Marinette knew that look. Alya was not going to give up on this. She grabbed the paper and started scribbling. There was only one explanation that Alya would accept, barring the truth.

‘Adrien and I have been dating secretly for a few months now’, she wrote. ‘We’ve been spending a lot of time together. You were right when you said I was having a hard time with him gone. The marriage thing is just a joke.’ Except it wasn’t, and in eight months Alya would know that, but that was fine. She slid the note back.

Alya read it, blinking incredulously. Her pencil attacked the paper so hard she almost tore it. ‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’VE BEEN DATING SECRETLY?!?! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?’

‘I think you’re missing the point of a secret,’ Marinette wrote, amused in spite of herself. 

‘Don’t mess with me, girl. No one has wanted you two together more than me. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’

Marinette read that and bit her lip, looking at the hurt in her best friend’s face. What could she say? Finally, she wrote, ‘I’m sorry. We weren’t telling anyone.’

‘I’m not just anyone,’ Alya wrote back, and then she slammed her pencil down on the table and folded her arms.

Shit. Marinette sighed and crumbled the paper up. She’d certainly messed this up, hadn’t she? Good job, Marinette. Way to make your best friend feel slighted. It seemed like she couldn’t do anything right lately. She stuffed the paper into her backpack and tried to focus on Ms. Bustier.

When the bell rang for lunch, Marinette shot to her feet. She put out a hand without looking and felt someone grab it; Adrien turned his head to face her and gave a tiny smile. They were the first ones out the door, leaving behing Chloé’s angry shriek of Adrien’s name, and hastened down the hall. Lost in the flow of other students, they emerged outside and quickly walked out the school’s gate without pause.

“I can’t believe you were so close all this time,” Adrien blurted out the second they were outside.

“Shh, _mon minou_ , not here,” Marinette whispered, tugging gently at his hand. She broke out into a jog and he matched her pace. They could’ve transformed, but Marinette wanted to have this conversation as civilians and not Ladybug and Chat Noir.

When they were far enough away from the school that she thought no one would’ve followd them, she slowed and pushed Adrien into an alley. He went willingly but caught her by the hips, pulling her in for a hug. His back thudded into the wall with the ferocity of their embrace. Marinette slung her arms around his neck and hugged him with every ounce of strength she possessed.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Adrien said, his voice breaking. He cupped her head like she was something precious. “I’m so glad it’s you.”

“I’m glad it’s you too,” Marinette admitted. She didn’t really care who was behind Chat’s mask; she would’ve loved whoever it was simply because he was the most important person in her world. Yet it was Adrien, and suddenly the way she’d felt for him made sense. Of course she’d had a crush on him. He was Chat.

“Nino’s mad,” Adrien said. “Is Alya upset?”

“Upset is putting it mildly. She’s pissed,” Marinette said.

“I figured she would be.” Adrien paused. Then she felt him smile against her neck. “I can’t believe you asked me to marry you right in the middle of class.”

Marinette flushed. “You were the one who said yes,” she said, glad her face was hidden. He’d tease her forever if he knew how flustered he could still make her. 

“Of course I said yes, Bug. If I had my way, I’d never be parted from you again. I can’t function when you’re not around. My photoshoot went _horrible_. Everyone was angry at me.” Adrien sounded so sad. Marinette couldn’t get any closer to him, but she slid a hand up into his hair and stroked his hair comfortingly.

“This is so unhealthy,” she whispered into his shoulder. They both knew that it was. They’d talked about it before. Being Ladybug and Chat Noir had taken a serious toll on their mental and emotional health. Marinette’s anxiety had gotten exponentially worse; Chat, or Adrien, had admitted to her that his depression had worsened as well. That wasn’t even taking into account that neither of them could function for the fear and panic that swamped them when they were apart. 

But what were they supposed to do? It wasn’t like they could trust anyone. Knowing their luck, the therapist they chose would either turn out to be Hawkmoth, or be extremely close to him. Or would decide to go to the media with the news of who Ladybug and Chat Noir were, ethics be damned. It wasn’t a risk that either of them felt comfortable taking, and both Tikki and Plagg agreed with that choice. 

“I know. I’m –”

“Don’t you apologize, Kitty,” Marinette said, pulling back and giving him a fierce glare. “It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault, either.” She swallowed. “We’re just… we’re doing the best we can, right?”

“Right,” Adrien said softly, leaning forward slightly so that their foreheads rested together. “So. Eight months.”

“Eight months,” she said. “My parents are gonna freak. We may actually end up on the streets.”

“If it means we can be together all the time, I’d be okay with that,” Adrien said. 

“Me too,” Marinette said, fingering the ribbon around his wrist. She could feel tears welling up, and couldn’t have said whether they were happy or not. Adrien cupped her face and pressed their lips together in a kiss so short she barely felt it, then hugged her again. Marinette hugged him back.

They ended up missing their afternoon classes, but neither minded too much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this second part is only what, three and a half months late? Give or take? So many people wanted to see the reactions that I was compelled to write it; it just took me a really long time. Hopefully it was worth the wait, as this really is the last part.

On the morning of Marinette’s birthday, the day dawned clear and bright. Adrien rose early and took his time getting ready, knowing that he wasn’t supposed to meet Marinette until eight. He’d spent the past week quietly packing his belongings, hiding the suitcases in the back of his closet when he wasn’t around. All he had to add to them now was his toiletries, Plagg’s bed, and the pajamas he’d worn to bed last night.

And some Camembert. Always with the Camembert.

He got dressed and took one last critical look around the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. This would be the last time he came back. Their plan was to stay with Marinette’s parents, but there was always a chance that Tom and Sabine would be too angry for that. So, for the past eight months, Adrien had been squirreling away the money he got from modeling – before he turned eighteen, he received half of what he made for each job, with the other half going into his trust fund. Once he’d turned eighteen, he received all the money from each job and his savings had grown substantially quicker.

He also knew that Marinette had been doing commissions on the side when she could and putting her own money aside. He’d spent several long hours curled up at her side while she worked. They didn’t have a lot of money, but Adrien thought they had enough. It would have to be enough. He couldn’t bear this any longer; the drive to be with her was consuming him whole.

“Okay, Plagg,” Adrien said, and his kwami turned to him with too-bright green eyes and a little show of fangs. Plagg approved of this plan whole-heartedly; he didn’t like it when Adrien and Marinette were separated, and had never been shy about sharing his opinion.

“Sure you can’t punch him on the way out?” Plagg said, diving into Adrien’s shirt pocket.

“Probably not.”

“I could just breathe on him, it probably wouldn’t kill him –”

“Plagg,” Adrien chided, curling his own lip to show a little fang in amusement. He wasn’t as opposed to the idea as he would’ve been when he was thirteen, back when he was a Good Little Boy™. Before he got his miraculous, before he became Chat Noir, before Ladybug and Marinette became his sole reason to breathe. 

“Adrien,” Plagg said, all innocence. “You’re purring. Let’s go.”

Adrien blinked at that, consciously stopping the rumble. Cats purred to show happiness, but he only ever purred for that purpose when Marinette was around. Most of the time he purred to comfort himself, because cats also purred when they were scared or sick or in discomfort and Adrien was always, _always_ all of the above when he wasn’t with his lady. 

He strapped his bag over his shoulder, grabbed his suitcases, and made his way out of the room and down the steps. His father was in the dining room, just sitting down to breakfast. Nathalie had joined him, sitting on Gabriel’s right. That used to be Adrien’s spot. He’d gladly relinquished it. He was no one’s right-hand man. He stood _beside_ Ladybug, and only Ladybug. It was a truth he understood in his bones, and it was dizzying to finally wear it on his face.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel asked, not even bothering with a greeting. “You aren’t traveling.”

“Correct. I’m leaving.”

Nathalie inhaled a little too sharply, eyes darting to Gabriel. His father stiffened.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Adrien. Get in here and sit down.”

“I can’t,” Adrien said. He was enjoying this. “I’m getting married. Can’t be late to my own wedding.”

Gabriel stared. “You can’t get married. You’re a child.”

“I’m eighteen. My birthday was two and a half months ago, but thanks for noticing.” He kept his voice and expression bland, because his father had taught him nothing if not that. Never show any emotions to people that weren’t worth your time.

There was a slight pause before Nathalie scrabbled for her tablet, probably to check the authenticity of Adrien’s claim. Adrien wanted to sigh, because he hadn’t been surprised when that day had passed without acknowledgement. At one time, that would’ve crushed him. But then he’d spent the day wrapped around Marinette in her bed, face buried in her throat, and that was all he needed. The party Nino and Alya and their classmates and Marinette’s parents had thrown him had been a pleasant bonus.

“Don’t you dare leave this house,” Gabriel said, voice low and threatening as he stood. 

“What are you going to do to me?” Adrien asked. He was genuinely curious. He’d been beaten, stabbed, burned, thrown off the Eiffel Tower, drowned, removed from the timestream, and shot, all within the span of a five year period. Sometimes multiple times in the span of a _day_. He’d lost his lady before.

There was nothing Gabriel Agreste could do that was worse than that.

“I’ll disown you. You’ll get nothing.”

Adrien shrugged. “I don’t want anything of yours.”

There was a growing anger in Gabriel’s eyes. At one time, Adrien would’ve fallen all over himself to apologize and make amends. Now, he just turned and started to walk towards the front door. The floor creaked behind him and he tensed; he knew what was going to happen before the hand landed on his upper arm. Gabriel’s fingers barely had the chance to make contact before Adrien reacted.

It was pure instinct: in the span of less than a second, and with a vicious snarl, he had Gabriel’s arm twisted up behind his back. Nathalie gave a small scream as Gabriel’s body was thrust up against the wall. Adrien pinned him there, one hand to Gabriel’s arm and the other to Gabriel’s shoulder. Adrenaline curled nauseatingly in the pit of his stomach as he panted quietly, trying to get himself back under control.

“Don’t,” Adrien hissed low, “touch me.”

“Adrien!” Gabriel bucked, trying to throw him off. He was surprisingly strong, but Adrien spread his legs slightly and dug in his heels.

“I am leaving,” Adrien said slowly, each word pronounced, and pushed Gabriel’s up arm up just a tiny bit higher to make it hurt that much more before letting go and taking a graceful step back.

Gabriel swung around, one hand going to his shoulder. “If you walk out that door, don’t come back.”

Adrien stared at him dispassionately. He still loved his father, but _this_ man had precious little in common with that man. This man had thought of his son as nothing more than a business commodity. This man had turned a blind eye to his only child’s devolving state of mind, not caring how Adrien was a person so long as Adrien still served a purpose. This man had been a repeated obstacle to Adrien spending time as Chat Noir and with Marinette, which were literally the only two things that made Adrien feel anything anymore.

He decided that such a stupid statement didn’t deserve an answer – of course he wasn’t coming back, he’d just said as much – and walked out the door with his suitcases in hand. He didn’t need Gabriel or the Agreste name. There would be plenty of companies chomping at the bit to hire Adrien Agreste as a model, even just for the chance to pull one over on Gabriel. 

Marinette was waiting for him by the corner. Her nails were bloody from where she’d been picking at them, and Adrien realized he was late. He released his suitcases and reached out to her. She flew into his arms, her arms winding around his neck. Adrien pressed his nose into the hollow of her throat, inhaling the smell of her sweat and bodywash. His heart thumped.

“Was it okay?” Marinette asked shakily.

“Fine, My Lady.”

“I thought – oh, I thought maybe he’d stop you and lock you up, and –”

“It was fine,” Adrien said gently, kissing the corner of her mouth to disrupt her spiral. Marinette got increasingly anxious the longer they were apart, to the point where she would start physically hurting herself. Adrien just went numb, and the only thing that could pierce through that was fear for her. Fear that she would die without him, that she would take a blow he could’ve prevented. Fear that she would vanish and he would never know what had happened to her. Fear that he would lose her. 

He was no longer sure what was worse, the numbness or the fear; he cycled between the two of them with varying intensity when she wasn’t around. From numb disinterest in the world around him, like he was a spectator watching everything from beyond a television screen, to a thick, suffocating fear that made him feel like he was going to choke, he teetered back and forth on any given day. That week he’d spent without her eight months ago had been _literal_ hell. 

But that was never going to happen again. Now that Marinette was eighteen, they were going to be married. No one would be able to keep them apart. Adrien took her hands in his and kissed them. Marinette breathed, her shoulders uncoiling slightly, her chest rising and falling to the rhythm of Adrien’s lips brushing against her hands. He couldn’t wait until the ring was on her finger and he could kiss that too.

“Okay,” Marinette said at last. “I’m okay. Let’s go.” She picked up one of his suitcases and Adrien took the other, keeping hold of each other with their free hands. 

They hadn’t gone more than three steps before the sound of someone screaming reached their ears. They looked at each other. Marinette sighed and shrugged her shoulders, as though to say, what can we do? Adrien frowned, fingers tightening around the handle of his suitcase. This was an important day. He’d been waiting for it. He didn’t want to wait another minute.

“Let’s get this over with quickly,” he said.

Marinette nodded. “Agreed. Come on.” She touched his shoulder and led him to the nearest alley, where they both transformed. Adrien’s suitcases and bag vanished as his suit formed around him; it was incredibly handy how the miraculous magic safely tucked away anything they happened to be holding when they transformed. 

Chat took hold of his baton with one hand and his lady with the other. With a press of the button, he extended the baton and lifted them up to the rooftop. Ladybug pointed to where they could see clouds of smoke rising from the ground. The screaming was really beginning to get on Chat’s nerves. He flattened his cat ears against his head as he and Ladybug traversed the rooftops.

The akuma was calling itself Slowpoke. It’s main power seemed to be the ability to dramatically slow people down. Chat peered down at the street below them and saw several people who were trying to flee the battle, but they were moving in such slow motion that a toddler learning to walk could’ve passed them no problem. Even the akuma was moving slowly, with big, exaggerated motions that made it pathetically easy to see what its next move would be.

“Do you ever get the feeling that sometimes Hawkmoth just isn’t trying very hard?” Chat asked, leaning against his lady. 

“Are you complaining?” 

“God no. I relish the easy ones,” he said. They were a hell of a lot better than the battles that dragged on for hours and left both him and Ladybug exhausted and, more frequently, injured. Sometimes it was all the two of them could do to defeat the akumas that happened when Hawkmoth seemed to be feeling creative.

“Maybe he’s just bored,” Ladybug said, reaching for her yoyo. “Let’s just do this fast.”

“Agreed.”

They leapt off the rooftop together. Ladybug swung down, while Chat opted to extend his baton again to vault himself towards the akuma. Slowpoke swung around to face them, but by the time it had turned fully Chat was too close for it to appropriately react; Chat slammed his feet into its face, taking a perverse sort of pleasure in sending the akuma flying. 

“Give me your miraculous!” Slowpoke screamed as it landed, sliding into a bunch of garbage bins. It popped back up, pink eyes glowing. “Your miraculous!”

“Sorry, not today,” Ladybug said absently, landing right in front of it and scanning Slowpoke with a practiced eye. 

“I want it!” Slowpoke lurched forward, but was stopped by Ladybug’s foot planted in the middle of its chest.

“Chat and I have a date we need to get to,” Ladybug said. Her voice had dropped, the idle patience now gone and replaced with something cold. Chat smirked. That tone put the fear of God into pretty much everyone who heard it, because it meant that Ladybug was now seeing you as something she needed to deal with. He’d seen journalists who literally scattered like ants after she spoke to them like that.

“Give it to me!” Slowpoke made grabby hands. Chat didn’t have to see her face to know that Ladybug was rolling her eyes. 

“Fuck off,” she said, grabbing a bracelet off of Slowpoke’s wrist. She broke it in half, freeing the akuma.

Chat stood back and watched idly as she cleansed the butterfly and then used her miraculous cure on the city, returning the Parisians back to their normal speed. She spoke a few words of comfort to the victim – his lady was nothing if not kind, always putting the people around them first – before walking back over to him. She held an arm out to him and he stepped into her embrace, letting her yoyo haul them both up and away.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir! Can I have a word?”

“It’s Alya,” Chat said into Ladybug’s ear, and she sighed.

“Yeah, okay. But just for a minute.”

She reversed their trajectory, neatly landing them half a block away in front of the owner of the Ladyblog. Alya beamed at them, her phone held up in their directon. Chat pasted on a polite smile, keeping his arm around Ladybug’s waist.

“Good morning! How are Paris’s superheroes this morning?” Alya asked.

“I don’t know if I’d call an akuma a good morning,” Chat said. “My Lady and I prefer to sleep in.”

“You live together?” Alya said, her eyes sharpening.

“Of course. We are married,” Ladybug said with a light, forced laugh. She turned her head to kiss Chat’s cheek. “My husband and I were having a lovely morning before Hawkmoth decided to interrupt.”

“At least this akuma fight didn’t seem to be too difficult,” Alya said. “It may just beat your record for shortest fight.”

“We’re extra motivated,” Chat drawled, reaching for his baton. “See you around, Ladyblogger.” He tightened his grip on Ladybug and extended his baton. Alya’s phone followed their progress until they were out of sight, over the edge of the roof.

It was only Chat’s excelerated hearing that let him hear Alya’s whisper of, “So _romantic_.”

It had been his idea to start spreading the word that Ladybug and Chat Noir were married six months ago. Chat knew himself: once he and Ladybug really were wed, it was entirely likely he was going to slip up and call her his wife in battle. If that happened, all Alya or another enterprising journalist would have to do is check the marriage records. There couldn’t be that many young men with blond hair and green eyes, and young women with black hair and blue eyes, getting married in Paris right around the same time as Adrien and Marinette.

But, since Alya and the rest of Paris thought that Ladybug and Chat had married six months ago, the marriage records and licenses would’ve already been thoroughly scoped out. Chat kind of pitied anyone who had been wed within a two week timeframe of he and Ladybug making that announcement, because he was sure that Alya had investigated, if not outright interrogated, all those couples.

“Extra motivated indeed,” Ladybug said playfully. “Ready to be a kept man, _mon minou_?”

“It’s all I’ve wanted for the past five years,” Chat replied, focusing on propelling them in the direction of their destination. He landed them both in another alley, this one significantly closer, and detransformed. Ladybug followed suit. He took Marinette’s hand, and they walked into the courthouse together.

Twenty minutes later, it was done.

Adrien looked at the ring on his finger, hardly able to believe that it was final. Marinette was tucked beneath his arm, her eyes full of tears as she gazed at her own finger. Her wedding band was identical to his: a silver band inlaid with alternating white and black diamonds. It looked good against the engagement ring she was finally able to wear on her finger instead of around her neck; her engagement ring was silver, with a larger white diamond and two smaller black diamonds on either side.

“They can never separate us again,” Marinette whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“Never ever,” Adrien promised, leaning down to kiss her again. He savored the feelings rolling through him; he hadn’t felt this alive in _years_.

Marinette giggled suddenly, breaking the kiss to wipe at her cheeks. “And now we get to go to school. I feel like we’re doing it wrong. Surely we should be going on a honeymoon.”

“Once Hawkmoth is taken care of, we will,” Adrien said. Nothing would tie them to Paris then. He was certain they’d inevitably end up back here, but it would be nice to leave for a while. Marinette dreamed of seeing America, and Adrien would go wherever she wanted.

“I’d like that.” She smiled up at him. “Let’s take your bags to my room before we go to school.”

“Are you sure we should? What if your parents won’t let us stay?”

Marinette shrugged. “Then I’ll still have to get my things from my room.”

She had a point. He nodded and they fetched his bags from where they’d been left. They walked leisurely back to the bakery, where Marinette transformed and quickly ran them up to her bedroom. Adrien paced anxiously beneath her balcony until Ladybug returned, using her yoyo to slowly lower herself into his arms. She looked at him, her eyes shadowed.

“School?” he said, fingering a strand of her silky hair.

“School,” she said, and detransformed.

It was a familiar sight for them to walk into school hand-in-hand, so no one really gave them a second look by now. It had taken some time for Marinette to smooth things over with Alya. Alya could hold a grudge, and her feelings (and pride) had been stung when she thought Marinette had hidden the fact that she was dating Adrien for so long. But Marinette had persevered, stubborn as always, until things were back to normal between them.

Or had been, anyway. Adrien got the feeling that things were going to get rocky again when Alya, last to arrive because she’d had to walk her sisters to school, entered the classroom, took one look at Marinette and Adrien in the front row, dropped her coffee and screamed.

“Alya!” Madame Bustier exclaimed. “What’s wrong?”

Alya screamed again and pointed at Marinette.

“Er,” Marinette said eloquently. Adrien looked around for an akuma, but there was nothing. Not even a butterfly. And why would there be? This was the first time in years that he and Marinette hadn’t been at risk of being akumatized.

“Alya, _words_ ,” Nino said from his seat behind Adrien.

“What is _that_?!” Alya finally managed to shriek, storming over to Marinette’s desk and wrenching Marinette’s hand out of Adrien’s. She held Marinette’s hand up, letting the light catch her two rings.

“It’s a engagement ring. And my wedding ring,” Marinette said. 

There was dead silence. Adrien looked around again, this time in confusion.

“A… a…” Alya didn’t seem capable of speech. She’d gone pale.

“Wait,” Rose whispered from behind them. “You’re _married_?!”

“Well, yes,” Adrien said. 

Lila gave a dramatic moan and swooned over her desk. No one paid any attention.

“You got married?” Alya said. “You got married and you didn’t tell me.”

Marinette blinked. “Yes, I did. We told all of you.”

Everyone else, saved Adrien, blinked and looked around, as though waiting for someone to validate this extraordinary statement.

“I asked him to marry me right here in class, and he said yes. We made plans for my eighteenth birthday. Which is today,” Marinette added, with a satisfied smile. She leaned into Adrien and he into her, like magnets naturally drawn together. He could feel Plagg cackling with mirth in his shirt pocket.

“We didn’t think you were serious,” Nino said, somewhat helplessly.

Alya just stood there with her mouth hanging open.

“Well,” Madame Bustier said after several minutes of silence. She cleared her throat. “Well. Happy Birthday, Marinette. And… congratulations, you two.”

“Thank you,” Adrien said politely, bringing Marinette’s hand up to his lips. He kissed her rings, and she gave him such a fond look that his heart flip-flopped.

“Alya, please sit. We should start class,” Madame Bustier said.

“Madame, Lila is still –” Sabrina raised a hand, then pointed to Lila.

“Oh! Right. Sabrina, Rose, please help Lila to the nurse. Then come back,” Madame Bustier said. “Everyone else, take out your… ah.” She paused and sighed, putting a hand to her head. “Your language books. Please.”

Adrien took out his book and opened it up for him and Marinette, as he’d done every day for the past eight months. Madame Bustier didn’t even try to protest anymore; their grades were well enough considering that neither of them cared all that much. Sometimes they tutored each other during boring patrols, if Adrien’s grades began to slip in languages or Marinette’s grade in physics suffered.

It made sense. His strengths were her weaknesses, and vice versa.

He smiled to himself and Marinette turned to cock an eyebrow.

“Where you end, I begin,” he whispered to her, and then she smiled too.

At lunch, in spite of all the questions that their classmates clearly wanted to ask, Marinette took his hand and led him from the school. Adrien followed willingly – he would follow her anywhere, to the ends of the earth if needbe – and was not surprised when Marinette went to the bakery. It was itching at her, he knew. Her mind worked like that, thinking up a hundred given scenarios for any moment in time. She needed to know what would happen next so she could plan accordingly.

“Maman, can we talk to you?” Marinette asked her mother.

“Now?” said Sabine.

“It’s important,” said Marinette, and she held up their hands. Their rings were in clear view. Sabine paled.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, with a pleasant smile.

Sabine bowed her head, and nodded. Without a word, she turned and went through the back. Marinette and Adrien followed. As they passed the kitchens, Marinette snagged a cookie from one of the trays, opened her purse, and dropped it in. Adrien caught a glimpse of tiny red paws grabbing the cookie before Marinette closed her purse, and thought to fish a piece of cheese from his pocket to slip into his shirt.

Tom was upstairs in the apartment; he stood in the living room, frozen in the middle of tucking his shirt in, as Sabine whispered to him. Adrien studied them, curious. They didn’t gravitate towards each other like he and Marinette did. They didn’t always need to be touching in some way. They didn’t look like they would wither away if they were parted. He wondered what that was like.

“Marinette,” Tom said heavily, looking up at them. “Why?”

“Because we had to,” Marinette said. Their fingers were laced together. Adrien thought they always would be now, and the thought was… it was a _relief_.

“You had to?” Sabine said, her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re only eighteen. You’re so young.” She looked like she might cry, her hand pressed over her mouth.

Marinette didn’t say anything. They weren’t young. They hadn’t been young for a very long time.

Tom sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Does your father know, Adrien?”

“Yes. I’m not going back,” Adrien added, just to clarify, and both Tom and Sabine looked at him sharply.

“That _man_ ,” Sabine breathed, pursing her lips. Adrien watched them both come to the wrong conclusion: the thought he’d been kicked out, obviously. He could’ve corrected them, but knew Marinette didn’t want him to.

“Okay,” Tom said, and then, “Okay. You kids have school this afternoon, right?”

“Yes,” Marinette said, though Adrien doubted they would go back. 

“Go. We’ll talk about this some more when you come home tonight.”

“So we can stay?” Marinette asked slowly, cautiously.

Her parents looked at each other and then at her. 

“Marinette, of course you can,” Sabine said.

“Adrien too?” Marinette said, with considerably more suspicion.

“Adrien too,” Sabine said, her eyes a little wet, and stepped forward with her arms half-raised like she wanted to hug her daughter.

Marinette flinched back immediately. She didn’t like to be touched by anyone other than Adrien, Tikki or Plagg. She said it made her skin crawl. Her hands started to shake. Adrien squeezed her hand, so tightly that he was sure it hurt.

Sabine stopped. “Marinette,” she said, and now she _was_ crying.

“Tonight,” Adrien said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom said tightly.

Adrien nodded at them, and led Marinette out of the room and back downstairs. She had the forethought to take some pastries for their lunch, and then they went outside. Marinette stood in the warm sunshine, Adrien’s arms wrapped around her, and took shallow breaths until her trembling stopped.

“We’re not on the streets,” she said at last.

“No, we’re not,” Adrien said into her ear. She smelled of cookies and passion fruit. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding her closer. Not yet anyway. Her parents might still change their minds. But he didn’t care, and neither did she. They couldn’t be separated now; that was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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